


Words

by onstoryladders



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Gen, Late Night Conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24605269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onstoryladders/pseuds/onstoryladders
Summary: Words can be deceitful things. You can't trust them, the same way you can't trust a knife – Smellerbee knows it. Every Freedom Fighter does.Words are weapons. Subtle blades hidden right in front of you. When you see them – when you really see them – it's already late.Set after S01E10: Jet.Smellerbee thinks about what being a Freedom Fighter truly means. Longshot is there for her – he always is.
Relationships: Longshot/Smellerbee (Avatar)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 25





	Words

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've ever written in English. I'd forgotten about its existence, but this morning I found it among my drafts... and I still like it, so I decided to post it.  
> Enjoy! ♥

Words can be deceitful things. You can't trust them, the same way you can't trust a knife – Smellerbee knows it. Every Freedom Fighter does.

Words are weapons. Subtle blades hidden right in front of you. When you see them – when you really see them – it's already late.

It's not so bad when you're the one who's stabbing. Sometimes you need to lie, and sometimes you need to hurt: there's a greater good at stake. Jet told her long ago.

 _Does it make us just like them?_ , she thinks, and she doesn't know where this thought comes from. She's never been doubtful since she joined the Freedom Fighters, not even when she had to dirty her hands, to fight and hit and run through the woods, and steal just so that she could put something on the table when she got back to the village.

She sighs.

Everything in front of her is coated in black. No moonlight tonight, too many clouds, and all the fires are dead. The others are sleeping, but no sound comes from their little houses on the trees.

 _Dead like the fires_ , she briefly thinks, and shakes her head to get that thought away.

The silence is broken by some rustling. Smellerbee doesn't flinch: she knows who's coming.

“Hey”, she says without looking up, voice so soft it's carried by the breeze. “I thought you were asleep”.

Longshot doesn't say anything but sits next to her on the large branch. They're so close their shoulders are touching, and Smellerbee feels his warmth through the light fabric of their clothes.

“Why are you here?” He arches his eyebrows in a silent question and she chuckles. “I asked you first”.

“I knew I'd find you awake”.

A shiver runs along her spine and she shrugs. “Yeah, I couldn't sleep. Lately things in my head haven't been so clear”. They remain silent for a while, then she says: “Maybe that guy, what was his name…”.

“Sokka?”

“Yeah, him”. His face is still vivid in her memory. “Maybe he was right”.

Another silent question. She doesn't even need to raise her head to look at his face, she can feel his curiosity like a touch, a warm caress on her side.

“I thought we were doing this for a greater good, Longshot. Jet told us. It was not just revenge, it was about fighting. It was about getting back everything they took from us”.

“It still is”.

“We almost killed everyone”.

“That's not what's bothering you though”.

Smellerbee sighs. _I feel betrayed_ , she thinks, _and like I don't know who I am – does it make any sense? And does it really matter?_

“Jet lied to us, didn't he?”, she says instead.

“When?”

“All the time. Just like he lied to them”. Longshot shakes his head and Smellerbee diverts her gaze to the darkness in front of her. “He did. At the end of the day, all he wanted was their blood on his hands”.

She stills when his fingers brush her face – lightly, like a butterfly's wings against her cheek. Shame colors her ears as she murmurs: “I know it's not right. It's not true. We wouldn't be here without him”.

And yet she can't erase the cold feeling waving in her stomach. Disappointment. Betrayal. Above all, she feels defenseless: she didn't think her trust could ever hurt her. She's smart, she's always been – and when you're smart you're supposed to know not to trust others easily. She supposes she didn't: Jet earned her trust the same way he earned her respect and loyalty and friendship, with time and effort and willpower.

 _And words_ , she thinks with a grimace. _Lots of ’em._

“I suppose we can never really know one another”.

Longshot's hand covers her own, their fingers interlacing. _You know me_ , he's saying with his eyes, and she nods.

“Yeah”. A whisper. “I know you”.

His face can't lie.

Not to her, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think about it with a comment, it would mean a lot to me. :)  
> Thanks for reading! ♥


End file.
